


Stay High

by fandom_meet_fangirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Dealer Harry, Dealer/Client AU, Flirting, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Rich Client Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:27:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26750593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandom_meet_fangirl/pseuds/fandom_meet_fangirl
Summary: Harry is a successful London drug dealer, and Malfoy is his stupidly rich longtime client. But maybe, just maybe, there’s a little more to the relationship than what’s seen on the surface.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 5
Kudos: 66





	Stay High

**Author's Note:**

> The fact that this fic only exists bc of tiktok is both shameful and hilarious. shout out to my awesome gf for the prompt

The shrill ring of Harry’s cell phone from the other room cut through the silence of his flat, making him sigh heavily behind his mask and set down his syringe. That ringtone was reserved for one client and one client only; his spores would have to wait. Exiting the dark, humid room carefully, he stripped off his gloves and mask as he made his way to the kitchen where his phone was plugged in. It had already stopped ringing, but Harry knew that wouldn’t remain the case. 

As if on cue, the screen lit up with an incoming call. 

“What’s up, Malfoy?” Harry answered, doing his best to sound chipper. He liked most of his clients - considered a lot of them of them friends, even - but Draco Malfoy was a different breed altogether. The poncy git was rude, self-centered, and inconsiderate. He was also filthy fucking rich, which perhaps explained the behavior, but was barely an excuse. Harry would have stopped taking his calls years ago, if it weren’t for the fact that Draco’s patronage practically paid his rent. 

“I need the usual, but I need it delivered, and I need it in an hour,” a posh accent drawled on the other end of the line. Harry bit back a groan. It was nearing sunrise, and he had been planning on going to bed as soon as he had finished with his next batch of spores. 

“I’ll tack on an extra two-hundred for your troubles,” Draco added before Harry could respond. Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes. 

“I’ll be there,” he said, trying not to sound as put out as he felt. Really he should be used to this by now. Irritating as Draco could be, at least he was consistent. 

_ And fit, _ a very unhelpful voice chirped from the back of his mind, driving him to end the call before Draco could respond. Grumbling incoherently, Harry made his way to the supply room to gather Draco’s order. Once he had put that together he slipped into his bedroom to change out of the sterile scrubs he was wearing, not allowing himself to think too hard about what he was putting on. He could admit to himself that Draco was peng as fuck, but he drew the line at attempting to look nice for the prick. He was just the plug after all. 

Heaving the heavy bag onto his shoulder, he made his way out of his apartment and down to the street, huddling into his coat as he was met with a cold drizzle. He quickly made his way to where he was parked, tossing the bag in the backseat as he settled in behind the wheel. 

As he made his way for Draco’s flat in Knightsbridge, he thought back to his and Draco’s first encounter. The twins had thrown a rager for New Years Eve a couple years prior, a party for which Harry had provided all of the favors. Draco had been invited by his friend Blaise, who had started seeing Ginny a few weeks prior. 

He remembered how Draco had seen him passing out pills and little baggies of snow as if they were candy, already being quite drunk at that point in the evening. He had dragged Harry into an empty bathroom and demanded a taste. Harry thought that if he had been more sober, he probably would have told the man to shove it. But for some reason he had just drawn up the lines and handed Draco one of his pre-rolled pound notes without a word. He had watched with focused interest as Draco inhaled the fine powder, unable to tear his eyes away from the blonde’s long fingers and angular face. The effects had hit quickly - Harry had always prided himself on the quality of his product - and Draco had swayed on his feet with an expression so blissfully excited that Harry had to look away for fear of popping a halfie. 

“This might be the best I’ve found since moving to the city,” Draco had said, voice thick from the drip. “I’m afraid you’ll never be rid of me now.” And then he had squeezed by Harry to leave, slipping a fifty pound note along with his card into Harry’s back pocket as he went. 

He had been right, obviously, because here Harry was - two years later - pulling up to his ridiculously expensive flat with nearly two thousand pounds worth of drugs. 

Noting that he was right on time, and that the sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon, Harry grabbed the bag and made his way quickly to the front gate. He hit the buzzer and waited patiently for the wrought iron to be unlocked, walking up the path and right through the front door when he was granted entrance. He was only in the foyer but a moment when Draco appeared at the top of the steps. 

“You look like shit,” he said plainly, his face a mask of haughty derision. 

“Good to see you, too, Malfoy,” Harry said, unable to hide the annoyance in his tone this time, as he made his way for the kitchen. Draco didn’t respond, just made his way down the stairs to follow him. 

“Well aren’t you cheerful this morning?” he said sarcastically as Harry began unloading bricks and baggies onto the counter. 

“You interrupted me while I was planting,” Harry said, voice flat as he avoided Draco’s piercing grey gaze. 

“Oh right, Blaise mentioned you were experimenting with a new spore strain. I am looking forward to trying it,” Draco said, pulling a wallet out of the jacket that was hanging on one of the dining room chairs. 

Harry looked at him with an eyebrow raised in question. Draco tended to stick to stimulants, rarely branching out into psychedelics. Not that he never had before, it was just unusual. But Draco wasn’t looking at him, as he was counting the money owed Harry for his service. 

“You’ll be the first to know when they’re ready, then,” Harry muttered, double checking to make sure he had Drao’s full order out. “If I can ever get them growing.” Draco chuckled and held out the money with a strange expression on his face. 

“The very first?” he asked, almost teasing. Harry took the wad of bills, trying to ignore the way Draco’s long fingers brushed against his as he did so. 

“Aren’t you always?” Harry said, earning a devilish smirk that warmed his stomach in a way he didn’t want to think about. 

“I should hope so, Potter. I doubt any of your other customers spend as much on you as I do,” Draco said, pride bleeding into his words. Harry rolled his eyes and slung the now empty bag onto his shoulder. 

“I doubt anyone spends as much money on drugs as you do, Malfoy,” he said. Draco just shrugged and leaned onto the counter, meeting Harry’s eyes steadily. 

“Are you complaining?” he asked. Harry found himself chuckling in response. 

“Now why would I complain about you paying my bills?” he said. Now Draco was rolling his eyes. 

“It sounds so sordid when you say it like that,” he said. This only made Harry grin. 

“What, Malfoy? You can’t tell me with all this money you got lying around here that you’ve never considered using that to your advantage. I’m sure there’s plenty of blokes out there who would be hard-pressed to say no to a face like yours, especially if it was attached to a fat stack of cash,” he said. He had been aiming for teasing, but as Draco’s expression darkened he feared he had missed the mark. 

“Correct though you may be about my ability to participate in such an arrangement, you will find that my desire for one would be lacking,” he said. 

“Then what exactly do you desire for?” Harry was asking before he could stop himself. Draco arched an elegant eyebrow in surprised amusement. 

“Well if you must know, I prefer the men I fall into bed with to be attracted to me more than my money. Although I seem to have a penchant for smart-mouthed chavs who wouldn’t know class if it bit them in the arse,” he said. For some reason this made Harry’s cheeks warm and he tightened his grip on the strap of his bag. 

“Well if I see any I’ll put a good word in,” he said, turning to make his way towards the front door. Draco snorted and walked ahead of him to open it for him. 

“I’m sure your taste is impeccable, Potter,” he said dryly, gesturing for Harry to make his leave. Harry laughed and stepped out onto the front porch, stopped only by Draco’s hand on his elbow. 

“I’m partial to green eyes,” he said, before promptly shutting the door and leaving a slightly bewildered Harry standing alone the doorstep. 

**Author's Note:**

> Believe it or not this was supposed to end in smut. However, the story had other ideas. I will most likely be adding to this universe so if you enjoyed this fic keep an eye out!!!  
> come say hi on tumblr! @fandom-meet-fanboy


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